Red Buckets and Blue Shovels
by satinair
Summary: Nine year old Kurt Hummel makes a new friend at the beach.


Kurt Hummel scowls as his he feels the prickling heat of the sun on the back of his neck. Why his dad insisted they go to the beach, he'll never know. He hates the beach. It's always crowded and hot and everyone's always screaming and he just hates it.

The air is humid and his clothes feel uncomfortable against his skin. Kurt groans as he notices he's gotten sand all over his shiny black shoes.

"Kurt, you sure you don't want to take all that off?" he hears his dad ask behind him. Kurt turns to face his father.

"I spent a long time on this outfit," he says. Burt Hummel smoothes down the towel he laid out and unfolds his beach chair.

"I told you we were going to the beach. You could have just worn your bathing suit," Burt says. He grunts a little as he sits down on the chair and starts unpacking Kurt's toys from an oversized duffle bag. The bag also holds Kurt's towel and sandals. Kurt scowls. He told his father not to bring the towel. Under no circumstances will he be getting into the water. Kurt does, however, take the sandals from the bag. His feet are already hot and they've only been on the beach for five minutes.

Kurt undoes his shoes and puts on his sandals. He frowns as he looks down at his feet. His colorful sandals don't match his dark gray shorts and white collared shirt at all. Kurt sighs. There's nothing he can do about it now; his dad definitely won't go all the way back home just to get different colored shoes. He puts his black shoes in the duffle bag and sits on the towel next to his father's chair.

"You don't want to go closer to the water?" Burt asks. Kurt shakes his head and looks toward the ocean. There are way too many people there and he doesn't want anybody to bother him.

He grabs his plastic red bucket and blue shovel and shovels sand into the bucket. When the bucket is filled, he pats it carefully and turns it over on the beach before raising the bucket slowly. Instead of staying the shape of the bucket, the sand just falls apart forming a small beige pyramid. Kurt frowns. He tries again but, once more, the sand falls apart and he groans.

"What's wrong?" his dad asks, pulling a soda can out of their bright red cooler.

"The sand won't stay the way I want it to," Kurt tells him. "How am I supposed to make a castle now?"

Burt opens the soda can and takes a sip. "You can try adding water to it. The sun's been baking the beach all day, so the sand might just be too dry."

Kurt bites his bottom lip and looks back at the crowded water where people are playing and splashing around. He winces as he sees a tall boy dunk a shrieking girl into the water while laughing hysterically. He turns back to his father.

"I don't want to get wet," Kurt says.

"You don't have to get into the water. There's a lot of wet sand along the ocean, just play with that," Burt says. Kurt lets out a breath.

"Okay," he says, still feeling a bit uncertain. He plunks the shovel into the bucket and lifts it up by its handle. He smoothes down his shirt and looks back at the water. He can do this. It's not like he's scared of water or anything. And he won't drown if he doesn't go in.

"I'll be watching you the whole time. If anything happens, I'll come running," Burt says. Kurt turns and smiles appreciatively at his dad. That makes him feel a thousand times better.

Kurt makes his way to the water, careful not to step on any of the people lounging around or to bump into anybody running on the beach. He stops a few feet away from the water. He figures that even if the tide comes in, he won't get his clothes wet at all at this distance. He plops his bucket down and crouches low to scoop the sand with his shovel.

Kurt feels a shadow over him and hears someone ask, "Why are you wearing a shirt on the beach?" Kurt stiffens. He thought he was far enough from everyone else so that other people won't bother him. He grips his shovel tightly and looks up to see a boy with bright hazel eyes staring curiously at him. The boy's dark brown curls are wet and dripping and Kurt leans away from him, so he won't get his outfit wet.

"I'm not swimming, so it doesn't matter what I wear to the beach," Kurt huffs. Well, that's not true. Every outfit Kurt wears matters greatly. Fashion is a big deal to him, but he's not about to tell some strange boy that. He gets picked on at school for talking about fashion and he doesn't want to get picked on now.

The boy crouches down next to him. He's wearing nothing but his swimming trunks and Kurt guesses he was just in the water because there's water all over him.

"Can I play with you?" the boy asks.

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," Kurt says, glancing over his shoulder to look at his dad who was watching him and the boy with a slight frown on his face.

"Well, my name is Blaine," the boy says. He sticks out his hand for Kurt to shake, but Kurt just stares at it.

"I'm Kurt," Kurt replies. Blaine smiles.

"Good, so we're no longer strangers. Now can I play with you?" Blaine asks.

"Don't you have other friends?" Kurt asks. Blaine shakes his head and Kurt scowls as he feels droplets of water touch his skin.

"I came here with my brother, but he's busy now. I was playing in the water, but that got boring. Then I saw you come over and I thought that we could play with the bucket together. I don't have a sandbucket of my own because I lost it. I was playing with my bike and I attached it to the handlebars, but then I went really, really fast down a hill and it flew right off! My mommy was really mad and kept saying that I could have hurt myself, but I never hurt myself on my bike. I'm really good at it; sometimes I even race my brother and—"

Kurt shoves the bucket in front of Blaine's face. "You can play if you stop talking," Kurt says. Blaine zips his lips with his fingers and takes the bucket from Kurt. "Okay, all you have to do is hold the bucket steady while I put the sand in." Blaine nods and grips the sides of the bucket tight like it's the most important job he's ever had.

After a minute of watching Kurt fill the bucket, Blaine asks, "How come you're not swimming?"

Kurt groans. Blaine will never stop talking, he's sure of it. "I don't swim," Kurt says, hoping that'll be enough of an answer.

But it's not and Blaine asks, "Why?"

"I don't like getting wet when it's not necessary. Besides, I don't know how," Kurt says. The water is getting closer and closer and Kurt wiggles his toes as the water touches them.

Blaine cocks his head. "How don't you know how to swim? My brother taught me when I was just five years old."

"Yeah, well, I don't have a brother," Kurt huffs. "It's just me and my dad."

"How about your mom?"

"I don't have a mom," Kurt says simply.

Blaine laughs. "That's silly. Everyone has a mom." Kurt feels his ears redden. It's not silly to not have a mom. He feels the sting of tears and he turns away from Blaine.

"My mom died!" he says and he feels a few tears slide down his cheeks as he blinks. He doesn't want to cry in public. Not here. Not now. Kurt wipes the tears away with his arms because his hands are covered with sand. He looks back at where his dad is sitting. He doesn't want to play with Blaine anymore. He doesn't want to see Blaine ever again in his life.

"Kurt?" Blaine says in a small voice.

"What is it?" Kurt asks harshly, not looking at him.

"What is 'died'?"

Kurt turns his head to face Blaine. "What?"

"What does that word mean? I'm very good at words at school, but I don't know what that means," Blaine says, confusion etched on his face. Kurt exhales.

"Died means no longer living," Kurt explains.

"Oh" is all Blaine says.

"Has no one in your life ever died?" Kurt asks, jamming his shovel into the sand. Blaine looks skyward and thinks for a moment.

"I think I had a goldfish that died," he says. "I woke up one day and he wasn't swimming anymore. He was flipped on his side and just floating." Blaine demonstrates this by bringing his hands together and flipping them so that one hand is on top of the other. Kurt nods, but he doesn't know why Blaine felt the need to demonstrate. He's nine years old; he knows what a dead fish looks like. "I thought he was sleeping, but Mommy and Daddy told me he was gone and we had to put him in the toilet."

Kurt scrunches up his nose at this. "Why in the toilet?" he asks.

"That's where things that have died go, I guess," Blaine says, shrugging.

Kurt shakes his head. "That's not true. When my mommy died, she went into the ground. She was buried at her funeral." Blaine stares at Kurt for a moment before looking down at the bucket and gripping it.

"You sure know a lot of big words for an eight year old," Blaine mumbles.

"I'm nine," Kurt tells him.

"I'm almost nine," Blaine says. Kurt's eyes light up.

"So I'm older than you?" Kurt asks. Blaine nods. "That means I can boss you around!"

Blaine frowns. "You're not that much older," he says.

"I'm still older," Kurt says, grinning widely.

"You're not as old as Cooper," Blaine bites back.

"Who is Cooper?" Kurt asks, dumping some sand into the bucket.

"My brother!" Blaine says excitedly, as if he was just waiting for a moment to talk about his brother. "He's the bestest big brother in the whole world."

"Bestest is not a word," Kurt says, matter-of-factly.

"I _know_. I was just making a point," Blaine says, irritably. Kurt puts more sand into the bucket and pats it down. He looks around.

"Where is your brother?" Kurt asks. He sees no boys that look like Blaine anywhere near them.

Blaine shrugs. "The last I saw he was at the ice cream stand talking to some girls. He's supposed to be watching me, but all he does is talk to girls."

"Why does he do that?"

"He wants to be boyfriend and girlfriend with them. That's all he talks about. Well, that and sports," Blaine says.

"My daddy loves sports," Kurt states.

"Me too," Blaine says. His face lights up with excitement. "I always play football and soccer with Cooper and when my dad is home, we watch the games together on TV."

"Sounds fun," Kurt says in a disinterested tone.

Blaine peers at him through the corners of his eyes. "You don't like sports do you?"

Kurt shakes his head. "I'd rather play dress-up or have tea parties."

"Cooper says that stuff's for girls," Blaine responds. Kurt feels his face heat up and he knows it's not because of the sun.

"I'm not a girl!"

Blaine looks at him, eyes wide. "I didn't say you are."

Kurt stands and looks down at him. "You're just like every stupid boy at my school," Kurt huffs.

"I'm not stupid!" Blaine says, letting go of the bucket and getting to his feet.

"My daddy says there's nothing wrong with liking tea parties or playing dress-up."

"I didn't say there's anything wrong with that," Blaine protests.

"Whatever," Kurt says, crossing his arms and turning from Blaine. Blaine pouts.

"Are you mad at me?" he asks.

"Yes."

Blaine kicks the sand in front of him. "But I wasn't trying to—"

"The boys at school make fun of me because I like things that girls like," Kurt says, cutting him off.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Blaine says. When Kurt doesn't say anything after a few moments, he adds, "Sometimes kids at school make fun of me, too."

Kurt looks back at him and narrows his eyes. "Why do people make fun of you?" he asks.

"I have really curly hair that sticks up everywhere, even after you comb it," Blaine says, subconsciously bringing a hand to his curls. "And sometimes, when I'm really nervous, I just start singing, no matter where I am."

Kurt's face breaks out into a wide grin. "I like singing too," he confesses.

"Really?" Blaine asks, he eyes twinkling. Kurt notes that Blaine tends to get excited a lot. "My mom sings while she cooks and cleans and Cooper sings whenever he listens to music. I sing along with them all the time. And when my dad isn't busy, he plays the piano and sings and I sing with him and it's really fun." Kurt can't help but laugh at how ecstatic Blaine looks just talking about his family.

"I don't know why people would make fun of you just because of your hair and the fact that you like to sing," Kurt says.

"And I don't know why anyone would make fun of you for liking stuff that girls like. If I went to you school, I would tell those kids to stop bothering you or I'll do something really silly to make them make fun of me instead," Blaine says.

"Why would you do that?" Kurt asks.

"Because I like you. You're really cool," Blaine says, grabbing Kurt's hand. For a second Kurt is scared Blaine's going to hurt him or something, but he relaxes once he sees that Blaine just wants to hold his hand. He won't say anything to Blaine, but he likes the way it feels. He holds his dad's hand all the time, but Blaine's hand is smaller and softer and it just fits into his own perfectly.

"Blaine, let's go," someone says behind them. The two boys turn to see a shirtless boy, way older than the both of them, with blue eyes and hair as dark as Blaine's.

"Is that Cooper?" Kurt whispers to Blaine. Blaine nods. "Why does he look so sad?" Cooper keeps glancing somewhere at the other side of the beach and frowning.

Blaine shrugs. "I guess he got cockblocked."

Kurt's eyes widen and he sputters, dropping Blaine's hand in the process. "What does that mean?" he asks.

Blaine turns to him, confused. "I dunno," he says. "I heard his friend Tyler say it one time and Cooper looked just like he does now." Kurt giggles and Blaine smiles back. "You look nice when you smile."

Kurt blushes and brings a hand to his face. "I guess you should be going. Your brother looks really impatient," Kurt says, looking at the ground as the water swirls around their feet before retreating back into the ocean.

"Yeah," Blaine says, but he sounds a little disappointed. "Will you come to the beach again tomorrow?"

"Maybe. I don't know. It's up to my dad," Kurt says, gesturing to where his dad is sitting, still watching them like a hawk.

"Well, I hope you do," Blaine says. "I'd like to see you again."

Kurt reddens more. "I'd like to see you again, too," he says in a low voice.

"Bye!" Blaine says, taking Kurt's hand once more and giving it a little squeeze before running over to his brother.

"Bye," Kurt says back, waving to them. Kurt watches as Blaine hugs his brother.

"I see you're making new friends," Cooper says, shooting a quick glance in Kurt's direction. Kurt drops his head and pretends to be looking at his shoes.

"Yeah, his name is Kurt and he's really nice," Blaine replies. There is a pause and then Blaine says, "Cooper?"

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Remember when you said that playing dress up and having tea parties are for girls?" Blaine asks. Kurt feels his heart start racing and the back of his neck burning.

"Vaguely," Cooper replies.

"You shouldn't say that. Sometimes boys do that stuff too" Blaine says. Kurt looks up without meaning to and watches the brothers.

Cooper raises an eyebrow. "Does Kurt play dress up and have tea parties?" he asks.

"There's nothing wrong with that, right?" Blaine asks, his tone a little fearful. Cooper laughs and ruffles his brother's hair.

"Nope, there's nothing wrong with that at all," Cooper says. He wraps his arm around Blaine and they walk toward the boardwalk together. Kurt smiles. He really hopes his dad will let him come to the beach tomorrow.

He would love to see Blaine again.


End file.
